


Dancing & Definitely Distracted

by dragongoats



Series: Tales of Thedas [12]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Mages are nerds, Trans Inquisitor, Trans Male Character, semi-public
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-15
Updated: 2017-05-15
Packaged: 2018-11-01 01:33:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10911588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragongoats/pseuds/dragongoats
Summary: Adaar attempts to learn Dorian's Tevinter-style combat, but is distracted by the man himself.





	Dancing & Definitely Distracted

Adaar raised his staff, concentrating on his stance. He focused on connecting to the magic within to reach to that beyond place, the formless essence of power.

"You're tense." Dorian's soft voice chided with a gentle tsk. His voice was distant. Adaar's perception of time was delayed and slow, as it often was while hyper focused on channeling difficult magics. A light touch on his arm caused him to flinch, threatened to pull him from his effort.

Dorian's voice was raw, a whisper, scratching at his mind. Adaar spun around, body keyed up with unspent energy with no place to let it out. Most magic came unreasonably easy, even more so with the addition of 'the mark'. It frustrated him to fail at this, something he admired and felt inspired to learn. His breathing was heavy, his skin buzzed. He felt like screaming.

He let himself scowl, uncertain where to place his simmering rage and unrest. Dorian merely stood there hip cocked to one side with an amused expression. His eyes flicking up and down Adaar's body with a small smirk on his lips.

"Took me a while to master this as well, these old Tevinter styles are probably utterly foreign to you. It requires fluid motion between the body and staff, unlike what they teach in Fereldan. Like so." Dorian bowed slightly in mock deference and looked up at him with a slightly cheeky grin before stepping past him and performing a flawless exectution of the anticipated magical number. Dorian's stylish robes flowed and whipped along his body with each twist and turn. Like water his limbs flowed in high arcing motions. Bright blue and white magics flowed and sparked along his staff, coiling along his hands and back like dancing serpents.

Adaar had always admired this in Dorian. How he could blend dance and fighting in one smooth, seemingly effortless motion. It rendered him speechless as he stood there, taking in the beauty and ease of his body. It was why he wanted to learn.

When Dorian finished a few more poses, he ended by stamping his staff to the ground and quickly presenting and extinguishing a brightly coloured ball of magic with a flourish of his wrist. He made it seem easy but his rising chest belied the exertion required. Dorian grinned at Adaar again as if to say, 'see?'

Adaar couldn't help but laugh at this man who exuded charm and eloquence. "Perhaps I'm just not flexible enough, you make it look so effortless". He sighed, wondering to himself if they were just different bodies and different abilities. Adaar a tall qunari, Dorian, a lithe human.

"Nonsense." Dorian stepped forward, brushing his shoulder against Adaar's as he stepped behind him. "You just need a good teacher. Luckily, you have me." The smirk was back, tugging at his whiskers. Adaar caught a glimpse of it as he followed Dorian with his eyes as he disappeared behind him. A solid, warm hand rested at his hip, nudging his body into a better position. "It starts with good posture and balance."

Adaar's mind considered the proximity of Dorian's body to him, the lingering touch along his side, and tried to focus on the practice. "You're looking a little flushed, my dear inquisitor." Dorian needled with good humour, gently directing his body through the motion of the stance.

Adaar stared straight ahead, letting his body be guided. His face felt hot, and not necessarily due to the recent workout. Dorian's bare hands had found bare skin between his gaps in his cloth armour. He could have sworn his hands were simulatenously fire and ice, perhaps he was merely feeling the magic thrumming under the surface waiting to be used.

The height difference between the two of them meant that Dorian had to be unreasonably close when directing his long arms into the correct position. Even in this Dorian was smooth, gentle and charming. Evrything was said with a wry joke, an audible smile in his voice, mustache tickling the bare skin of his nape.

Adaar unconsciously leaned into Dorian's heat. His body solid and stable. He was so close to him, he could feel his breath, feel the rise and fall of his chest. Dorian's arms lay across Adaar's, positioning his staff, positioning Adaar.

Adaar let out a quiet groan as he felt Dorian against him. An electrical charge sparked against his skin, he felt indescribable. He felt drawn to Dorian and simultaneously terrified into inaction. "Is… this magic?" He wondered aloud, barely a whisper.

He felt Dorian still suddenly and hands on his body tense.

"Dorian?" Adaar tried to glance back but stopped when Dorian's forehead rested on Adaar's shoulder, a sigh escaping his lips. The hands on his bicep and hip tightened almost imperceptibly.

They both breathed in silence. It wasn't magic that he was feeling, this impossible warmth, coiling in his mind and belly, this crackling electricity sparking on his skin and heart at Dorians proximity and touch. Nor the warmth in his cheeks when he watched Dorian smile, dance, or talk passionately about his homeland or magic.

Adaar rested his arms and reached to run a thumb over Dorian's hand, squeezing for support and acknowledgement. This was an other sort of dance entirely, one that was potentially more dangerous and more challenging than fighting styles. Adaar twisted in spot, running his hands along Dorian's shoulders and arms, waiting for Dorian to look up at him, hoiping to see some recognition and acceptance in his face.

"It's.. Real to me." Dorian spoke quietly, glancing at him cautiously. His expression yielding an endearing and earnest hopefulness.

The flush rose in Adaar's face once more, beginning from his toes, lingering in his chest, til it crept up the dark skin of his neck and cheeks. He ran his arm around Dorian's bicep, to rest on his back. He glanced at Dorian's lips, feeling an impossible pull and desire to kiss him.

Dorian caught his glance and flashed him a knowing smirk. His confidence and presence returning as he gained sure footing again. "My dear inquisitor," he purred, charcoal rimmed eyes glinting with delight. "I think you are utterly charmed by me! I have half a mind to kiss you senseless."

"Do you!" Adaar dipped his head, eyes intense with desire and amusement.

Dorian hummed and pulled him closer, warm hands cupping his face, fingertips tracing his full lips.

***

His lips and tongue sliding against his lips, his neck, his chest were, like so much else surrounding Dorian Pavus, impossible. Adaar had found a conveniently shaded nook to push Dorian against. The stone wall of the keep where they had been practiceing was cool to the touch, and the forearm that balanced against it scraped against moss and dirt as he clawed at Dorian's welcoming body. He'd never look at dark shaded corners they same again.

"You--you're incredible" Adaar breathed, his large muscular thigh resting in between Dorian's as he rolled his hips. Dorian groaned low in response, sweat beading at his brow, eyes dark. Adaar cursed as Dorian bit his neck and flicked a bit of magic from his tongue along the tender skin of his neck, the sensation coursing down his spine to his groin. "Now that was most certainly magic," Adaar said, breathless, choking down a laugh turned groan.

Dorian raised one smug eyebrow, "just wait until you see what I can do when we're back in your chambers."


End file.
